Cameron’s brows lowered a fraction. “Who hurt you?”
She shook her head, then forced the words out. “No one in particular. I just don’t have the best track record with men. Men who…” How could she explain it in a way that she was sure he’d understand?
“Men like me,” he finished for her.
Had she thrown that accusation out at him before? Yeah, she was pretty sure she had. Thinking back now, Audrey realized it had been an unfair thing to say to him. It was a defense mechanism to keep him away, keep him from seeing how vulnerable and scared she was.
“I didn’t mean it the way you think,” she said.
“Yeah, you did.” His hand found its way back to her hair, threading through the strands. “But it’s okay. You’ve been burned in the past by guys like me, so you’re gun-shy. Nothing wrong with that.”
She dropped her gaze to this throat. “That’s why I had such a hard time when I saw Tessa here. I was brought back to every other guy I’d been with. It opened a wound I thought had closed.”
“Understandable,” he agreed. Then he lowered his head so he could see her eyes. “And maybe a little jealous?” he asked, as though hopeful.
“Don’t push it,” she warned.
He pinched her chin. “Come on, you know you were a little jealous.”
“Do you want me to be?” she countered.
“You’re the one who said it was truth time.”
“Yeah, but we weren’t talking about this,” she pointed out. You can’t expect him to be brutally honest, if you’re going to hold back. Audrey wanted to smack her inner voice upside the head for being so damn sensible. She blew out a breath and admitted defeat, something she did a lot around this man. “Okay, maybe a small part of me wanted to scratch her eyes out.”
Cameron’s half grin became full-blown. “There it is.”
“Do I get a gold star now?” she teased.
“How about a kiss instead?” he murmured.
His mouth hovered just above hers, close enough to feel his hot breath, and Audrey had to hold herself back from jumping on him, from sliding her tongue in his mouth before she had a chance to second-guess herself.
“I think I’d rather have the gold star instead,” she whispered back.
His mouth slid along hers; then he grinned against her. “Liar.”
Audrey’s lips parted just slightly, inviting him in, when the sliding door was thrown open. Piper came running in, wild hair flying around her face, shoes untied and cheeks pink.
Cameron had already moved back before Audrey even realized they’d been interrupted.
“Audrey, guess what Pinkie Pie just did?” the little girl asked. “She saw a bird, then climbed up the tree to try and catch it.”
“Is she stuck?” Cameron wanted to know, as though he hadn’t been about to shove his tongue in Audrey’s mouth.
Piper switched her attention to her uncle and shook her head. “No, she jumped down. But she’s all dirty with leaves and bark and stuff.”
“She jumped?” Audrey repeated.
Piper hopped on both feet. “Yeah, and she landed on all four of her feet. Isn’t that cool?” Then Piper was gone, running out the door as fast as she’d appeared.
She and Cameron exchanged a glance, but his expression didn’t mirror her amused one. His eyes were hot and dark and the pulse at the base of his neck was hammering. Audrey’s smile slipped as she remembered the way he’d been about to kiss her.
One of these days they weren’t going to stop at just kissing. And then she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to save herself.
Eighteen
The fall afternoon was crisp and cool, perfect weather for the extra sprints the players were doing to make up for their piss-poor attitudes. Blake had little patience for their whining and moaning about how tired and overworked they were. He’d blown his whistle and told them to start running and not to stop until he felt like they’d had enough.
“They think they’re tired now,” Blake muttered. “I’ll give them something to whine about.”
Cameron grunted as the players sprinted from one side of the field to the next. They knew better than to give it less than their all. If even so much as one kid slowed down, Blake would make them pay. Cameron understood they were nearing the end of the season, but the kids knew the drill by now. Prima donna attitudes didn’t go unnoticed or unpunished.
Of course, the end of the season also meant something else that Cameron didn’t want to think about. Being without Audrey had been keeping him up at night. She was distracting him at work, sucking the breath from his lungs. Every time he looked at her, every time he was around her and heard her soft laughter, he wanted to beg her to stay, tell her to think about Piper and how much the girl loved her.
Not just Piper.
But Cameron didn’t have the right to ask that of Audrey, especially after she’d caught him with Tessa. He was surprised she hadn’t yanked Piper and run for the hills.
She has faith in you.
Now he had to show her that faith was justified. But first he needed to make a decision about Denver. Over the past few weeks, the offer had become less important, less urgent. Every time he looked in the backyard and watched Piper play with her psychotic cat, Denver held less appeal. Every meal he shared with Audrey, or Post-it note he found, he wanted to burn the offer letter. Problem was, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to even tell her about the offer. He’d made the decision to turn it down before Audrey had a chance to put all the pieces together.
Blake whistled again and ordered the players to take a breather. They slowed to a stop, sweat dripping down their faces, chests heaving with exhaustion.
“Take a water break, gentlemen,” Blake told them.
Cameron was about to have a word with the offensive line when he spotted Drew Spalding exiting the field house. He wasn’t
